


Written in Stone

by Sharking



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Poetry, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:01:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24874288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharking/pseuds/Sharking
Summary: A series of AFTG fics centered around poems.#1 Invictus by William Ernest Henley- Neil wakes up not recognizing Andrew
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	Written in Stone

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

Invictus

\-----------------------------------------  
Out of the night that covers me,  
Black as the pit from pole to pole,  
\-----------------------------------------

Waking up meant he was alive. He used to breath a sigh of relief when he would wake up. Now, a deep sigh sinks into Nathaniel's chest. Awareness is instant but for the first few minutes his mind is filled with observations; nothing but breathing patterns, surroundings, and conditions flit through his brain. Someone's next to him, asleep and breathing deep. There's a machine whirring across the room, probably air conditioning based on the cool air that hits Nathaniel's face. He doesn't feel the pull of stitches or scabs. 

The ceiling is textured and oddly close to his face.

It may have been more than a few minutes of him repeating these thoughts. 

deep breaths, steady whir, cool air, healed body

deep breaths  
steady whir  
cool air  
healed body

Deep breaths

steady whir

cool air 

healed body 

shallow breaths

He twists to the change. The only thing to draw him from observations to thoughts. The first one since leaving the darkness of sleep,

"Whats going on?"

\---------------------------------  
I thank whatever gods may be  
For my unconquerable soul.  
\-----------------------------------

He'd pushed himself as tight as he can to what feels like a the railing of bunk beds. There's three of them and the cold press of them drags at Nathaniel's attention. Feeling like cuts. Feeling like pain. 

In front of him was a boy. A man. Something in between, a threat.

He was looking into him. Not at him, through him. Eyes that seemed to flash between confusion and anger. That look was something Nathaniel's body was familiar with. As soon as it registered he tensed up tight. Ready to run.

The only other time he had slept next to someone was when his mom was pushed to his back and he had a gun to protect himself. But she couldn't be there. Nathaniel was scared to blink, thinking this blonde boy may turn to a rotting corpse if he took his eyes off of him for even a second.

He was so caught up in memories that the second the threat moved his arm all thoughts were gone, action was the only thing Nathaniel could understand. Simple commands given out like autopilot.

Don't get hit. 

"Neil."

Get away.

"Yes or No?"

Fight back if you have to.

He realized that the railing had four bars not three as the toppled over them. Nathaniel sprinted towards a door in a desperate attempt to escape. Instead of opening to the hallway he'd hoped for, a plain bathroom sat behind the door. Looking into the mirror was a mistake but his brain made it anyway. 

He didn't look like himself. 

He looked like -

"Abram."

There was a hand on his neck and he fought to get it off. If Nathaniel's brain had been in charge he'd realized the calloused hands didn't match the well manicured ones from his nightmares. But with fight or flight running the show, Nathaniel simply scratched at the hand. He shoved blindly at his attacker and slammed the bathroom door shut. He fumbled with the lock and that moment of hesitance was all the blonde man needed to force his way inside the room. 

Nathaniel scrambled back into the tub. He was defenseless but he'd fought much worse than a well built midget in much worse condition and still came out on top. He was not going down without a fight.

\-----------------------------------------  
In the fell clutch of circumstance  
I have not winced nor cried aloud.  
\-----------------------------------------

Andrew woke up slowly. He pretended to still be asleep for a while. Enjoying the subtle heat radiating from Neil and the comfortable silence that could only be found on their bunk this early. He remembers when he'd first let Neil spend the night in his bed. It felt more intimate than any of the things they'd done before. Having Neil's mouth around him somehow felt less vulnerable than allowing him into his bunk for the night.

It was a show of trust. Absolute and blind trust. It had been absolutely terrifying. 

He'd told Neil all of it. Neil knew about the people who'd seen Andrew like this, sleeping and vulnerable, and had taken advantage of that.

And somehow the look on Neil's face when Andrew allowed him to stay was worth the panic. On some nights it was absolutely not. Andrew would wake up and need to be alone. Anyone coming too close took Andrew back to when he'd been weak. He didn't want to feel weak anymore.

And Neil, stupid rabbit-hearted Neil, understood. He'd lived through a different hell but he understood. Andrew had done nothing but fight to keep people away since he became strong enough to fight. He was angry and rude and yet people stuck by him. Aaron and Nicky out of necessity and guilty. Kevin because he was a coward. 

But Neil could read the pages of Andrew's soul that he was sure he'd burned years ago. 

Neil stayed because Andrew made him feel safe. 

That thought made him let out a little huff of air. Frustrated with his own sappiness.

\----------------------------------------  
Under the bludgeonings of chance  
My head is bloody, but unbowed.  
\-----------------------------------------

Andrew had known Neil to wake up quick. A habit branded into him with his moms harsh word and a target practically tattooed on his back. Sometimes, on good days, he would wake up slow. They'd sit in that in a warm silence that made Andrew think he might make it. 

On bad days he'd wake up quick and silent. 

But this was something he hadn't seen.

His eyes were focused but more in a general sense, not on anything in particular. He was cataloging Andrew in a way he hadn't since they first met. He didn't recognize Andrew.

He didn't respond to Neil, he didn't respond to yes or no, he only responded when Andrew spoke the name he'd only ever told Andrew.

“Abram”

The goalie was surprised he didn't break his neck with the way he recoiled from his hand. Neil flailed over the railing and although Andrew never doubted his strength, he was still a 5'2 runner. That fall would hurt.

Andrew scrambled after him and saw a small trail of blood drops leading tot he bathroom. 

Neil stood there frozen.

\------------------------------------------  
Beyond this place of wrath and tears  
Looms but the Horror of the shade,  
\------------------------------------------

Nathaniel didn't know what was going on.

The person who looked back at him wan't someone he knew. He had new scars, he had his father's hair and eyes, his mothers furrowed brow, and a body that had been damaged and healed for quite some time.

And this man, this boy, this stranger knew him. Knew the only secret he had. The only one that mattered.

\---------------------------------  
  


And yet the menace of the years  


Finds and shall find me unafraid.  
  


\---------------------------------

They stared at each other. Neil crouched in a bathtub and Andrew leaning against the sink. 

"Let me go."

"I'm not holding you captive."

"Where am I?''

"Palmetto University."

"Why?"

"You play Exy here. Riko's dead. Jean's at USC. Kevin plays here too. Your father is dead. All you have to do to survive is play Exy."

"You're lying."

"How would i know your name then Abram?"

He flinched a little, still not used to someone knowing who he was. Stripped of an identity to hide behind.

"My fathers dead?"

"About nine bullets to the abdomen and one to the head if i remember correctly."

"What about his people?"

"Romero's dead, Lola will rot in jail until she dies. You helped put her there."

"Why can't i remember anything?"

"You're life hasn't been all ice cream sundaes and peaches okay? You're brains fucked, but not permanently. Your memories will come back to you,

You've survived everything else life threw at you. This is not going to be what takes you down. I wont let it."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Andrew."

\-------------------------------------------  
It matters not how strait the gate,  
How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,  
I am the captain of my soul.  
\--------------------------------------------

**Author's Note:**

> If there's any poem you want a fic for let me know!


End file.
